


A Swirl of Paint

by voiceoftime



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Slow Burn, Slow burn Karedevil, This is a fix it for Season 2, Will start out Matt/OC, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voiceoftime/pseuds/voiceoftime
Summary: What if, right before The Punisher had appeared on the scene, someone had entered Matt Murdock's life?  Someone who had some idea of what was coming and wanted to try to find a way to the best possible out come?  How would that have changed things?Let's find out.





	1. New Clients

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of a story I'm not sure I'm going to continue. Please read and tell me what you think!

Matt groaned as he sat up in his bed.  His nightly activities last night had certainly taken their toll.  He slowly moved over to hit his clock.

_8:00 am…8:00 am…_

He swore.  He was late for work.  Almost on cue, his phone started yelling Foggy’s name.

“Hey, buddy.” He said roughly as he answered.  “I’m on my way.”

“ _Really?_ ” Foggy replied sarcastically.  “ _I don’t need superhearing to know you just woke up._ ”

Matt groaned again.

“I’ll be in soon.” He told him, sitting up.  “Sorry about this.”

“ _Are..are you okay?_ ” Foggy asked, his voice softer. _“Did..did something happen?_ ”

“Nothing I can’t handle, Fog.” Matt told him.  “I’ll see you soon.”

_“Okay._ ” Foggy agreed.  “ _See you soon_.”

Matt hung up the phone and got up to head to his closet.  As he sorted through the Braille tags, he thought about the night before.

The cartels were trying to move into the vacuum that Fisk had left and he was doing his best to dissuade them.  He had taken out a major shipment the night before, but without figuring out who was running the show, he knew it wouldn’t do much.

He was just pulling on his suit jacket when there was a knock at the door.  He quickly grabbed his glasses and schooled his mannerism into his ‘normal’ act.

“Who is it?”he called cautiously, not recognizing the heartbeat.

“Uh…” came a young female voice from the other side of the door.  “I’m not sure I actually have the right place.  I’m looking for Matt Murdock?”

“Call you tell me who’s asking?” he pushed, listening intently.  The heartbeat on the other side was steady and strong.

“Oh, right, you can’t see me, can you?” she said, her voice sheepish.  “My name is Eleanor.  I have some information for you.  I promise, I’m not a threat or a crazy person.  Seriously, I couldn’t pose a threat to a wet paper bag.”

Her heartbeat stayed steady and he sighed, unlocking the door.

“If you have information pertaining to a case, my office is a better place to talk.” He said as he opened the door.

“Actually, I have information for the Daredevil,” she said brightly, “but I didn’t really want to wait until you suited up again.  You don’t mind, do you?”

Matt quickly locked down his features to show no surprise.

“Why would you give information for him to me?” he asked.  “I’m not him.  Obviously.”

“Yeah, see, now that I’ve seen you, I know I’m in the right place.” She said, and he could feel her smile.  “Please, just let me in and I’ll explain.  I promise, I’m not a threat to you.”

Matt hesitated, but stepped back, not really knowing why he did.

“Thank you.” She said, stepping around him.  “Phew, that went better than I expected.  Honestly, I never saw it clearly.  I knew it would go better than if I approached you at your office, but I still wasn’t sure.   But the office, whoo boy, that was a disaster.  Your need to protect your friends is strong.”

He followed her, quickly grabbing her arm.

“If you’re threatening Foggy and Karen…”he growled.

“Calm.” She said, gently removing his hand.  “I’m not here to threaten anyone.  I’m here to help.  Promise.”

He let her go after confirming that she wasn’t lying and observed as she made her way to the kitchen like she had been there before.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“I told you, Eleanor.” She replied, grabbing a beer and twisting it open.  “Eleanor St. Claire.  And you’re Matthew Murdock, a lawyer who lost his sight at the age of 9, got trained in martial arts, and now you are also a crime fighting vigilante who the press has dubbed ‘The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’ or, more recently, Daredevil.”  She passed him to sit on the couch.  “I like the Devil one better.  More mystique.”

He stayed rooted to the spot.

“I know what you can do, Mr. Murdock.” She told him.  “I’ve known for a long time, I just knew it wasn’t time to see you yet, but now it is.”

“How do you know?” he asked softly, preparing to move the moment she made a threatening move.

“You have your gifts, I have mine.” She told him, taking a sip of her beer.  “By the way, Foggy is about to call.  You should tell him you’re going to be later than expected.”

A second later, his phone started to yell his friend’s name.

“ _Matt._ ” Foggy’s voice was annoyed.  “ _Where the hell are you?_ ”

“Sorry, but something came up.” He told his friend, never wavering from his attention on her.  “I think I might have a new client.  I’ll call you in a little bit?”

Foggy agreed and Matt hung up.

“Talk.” He told her, abandoning his pretense.  “Before I show you what I can do.”

“You really are touchy.” She said with a light laugh.  “It’s quite a tale.  You might want to sit down.”

He slowly made his way over to a chair and sat.

“I’ve known who you were for years.” She told him.  “I first saw you when I was around 14 years old.  You were in the orphanage, only just coming to terms with what you could do.  You were so sad and alone.  I wanted to see you then, tell you that you weren’t alone, but I knew it wasn’t time.  I wasn’t sure it would ever be the time.”

“You saw me?” he asked.

“Not the way you think.” She told him.  “I told you, I have my own gifts.  I was born with mine.  I’m an artist, a painter and a drawer.  When I was younger, my parents would take me all around the city to draw cityscapes.  One day they took me to Hell’s Kitchen and I drew an orphanage.”

She took a swig of beer, obviously trying to buy time.

“What I am about to tell you, only two other people in the world know. My parents.  I mostly draw cityscapes because when I draw or paint, I see things.  Lives, stories…futures.  When I paint people, I see too much, so I try to avoid it.  But that day, I painted the orphanage and I saw you.” 

She smiled softly.

“You were sad because the other kids made fun of you at school.” She told him.  “I wanted to meet you that day, but when I tried to paint it, it went badly.  You weren’t ready to meet someone like me, like you.  Over the years, I would come back here and paint the Kitchen, and sometimes I would see you.  I was always glad to know you were alright, especially after you met Foggy.”

She took a deep breath.

“And then the incident happened.  And the Triskilion.  And my paintings became a tapestry of fear and pain.  And then I saw you again, except this time, you wore a mask.  But I knew it was you.  I started following you more closely.  I wanted to see that you would be safe.  I almost came to warn you before Nobu, but I saw that it would lead to you telling Foggy and knew I couldn’t interfere.  I’m ashamed to admit you’ve been kind of an obsession with me.”

“You’ve been watching me?” Matt demanded.

“Not intrusively, I swear.” She told him quickly.  “I swear it’s a lot less creepy than it sounds.  This is why I never tell people.”

She muttered the last part.

“I draw you in crowds and public places, that way I won’t see anything I shouldn’t.” she told him.  “Like I said, portraits show too much.  I’ve seen bits of the last year, your fight with Fisk, but more recently I’ve seen more to come, and none of it’s good.”

 Matt listened intently as she told her story.  Her heartbeat never wavered, her body temperature never rose.  She at least believed what she was saying.

“I can prove it.” She told him. 

She reached into her bag and pulled out a sketch book.  She stood and moved over to him, taking his hand and putting the sketchbook in his hand, moving it so he could feel the raised lines.  After a few swipes, he let it drop.

“I think his name was Sweeny.” She said softly.  “I almost stopped checking on you when Elektra entered your life.  She brought out such darkness in you.  But this night, I saw that no matter what, the light would always be there.  As long as you couldn’t kill this man who had brought you so much pain, you would be alright.”

She bent down and picked up the book, moving back to her seat on the couch.

“I need you to trust me, Matt.” She told him.  “Something is coming and you need to be ready.  You and the others.”

“Others?” he asked weakly, still trying to come to terms with the fact that the woman across from him had drawn one of the worst moments in his life.

“The number of people with extraordinary abilities is growing by the day.” She told him.  “We’re not alone and we’re going to have to start banding together if we want to win what’s coming.”

“What is coming?” he demanded.

“Ah, yeah.” She said, her facing warming as she blushed.  “I’m not sure.  All I’m getting are vague impressions, like all the pieces aren’t exactly in place.  I know you’ll be there.  I know there are others there.  I’m pretty sure Jessica Jones is one of them.”

“She’s the one who went up against the guy who could control minds.” He commented.

“Yeah.” She replied.  “Kilgrave.  I painted a picture of them together after everything out of curiosity.  I really wish I hadn’t.”

Eleanor climbed to her feet with a sigh.

“You should really get to work.” She told him.  “I do have a client for you, by the way.  One of the cartel members you took down last night has a sister.  When they raided his apartment, they arrested her for aiding and abetting, but she’s innocent.  Didn’t have a clue what her brother was up to.  She could use some help.”

She walked back to the kitchen and threw away her bottle.

“Also, I’ll be in later.  I have some contracts with galleries that might sell my work that I’d like you too look over.” She chuckled.  “I’m pretty sure you won’t turn down a paying client, even if they did accost you in your apartment, tell you they were a psychic painter and reveal that they know your deepest secret.”

“Foggy gets antsy when I turn down paying clients.” He replied, still sounding stunned.

She slowly made her way over to him, gently grasping his shoulder.

“I know this is a lot.” She told him softly.  “I know I kind of dumped all of this on you at once and you have no reason to trust me, but I promise you will.”

“You’ve seen that too?” he asked dryly, making her chuckle.

“No.” she replied, squeezing his shoulder.  “I have faith.”

She let go and picked up her bag.

“I’ll be in your office in 3 hours.” She told him, heading to the door.  “Head down to the 15th.  The girl you’re looking for is named Gabriella Diaz.  I’ll cover her legal costs too.”

“You rich or something?” he asked, getting up and following her.  He seemed to be doing that a lot.

“Or something.” She agreed. 

She opened the door and turned to look at him again.

“Buckle up, counselor.” She told him with a grin.  “Things are about to get pretty bumpy.”

She walked out, closing the door behind her.

Matt stood there, unable to move or comprehend what had just happened.  Finally, his phone beeped and he pulled it out.

“ _Message from Unknown: Get a move on, Mr. Murdock.  End message._ ”

He grabbed his cane and opened the door, determined to find out more about Ms. St. Claire.

* * *

 

Matt found Miss Diaz right where Eleanor had said she would be, and, after listening to her story, he had agreed to represent her, just like Eleanor had assumed he would.

That annoyed him a little bit.

When he finally made it to the offices, he found it full with, if not paying clients, at least good word of mouth.

“Matt!” Karen exclaimed, getting up to greet him.  “Are you okay?  Foggy said you found a client?”

“Yeah.” He agreed, heading to his office.  “A woman called to arrange for us to defend a young woman caught up in her brother’s illegal activity.  I met with her at the 15th and agreed to take her case.”

“Give me her name and I’ll get started on documents.” She told him.

“Gabriella Diaz.” He told her.  “Her brother, Rafael was caught by Daredevil last night.”

He felt Karen nod and then smirked slightly as he felt her blush.

“Sorry.” She said sheepishly.  “I just nodded.  I’ll get right on that.”

She headed to the door, but he stopped her.

“We also have a client coming in around 1.” He told her.  “An artist who approached me about looking over some contracts for her.”

“We’re doing things for artists now?”

Foggy entered the small office.

“I didn’t know we were going hipster.” He finished, sitting down on the other side of Matt’s desk.

“She approached me, Foggy.” Matt told him.  “And she’s a paying client.  I thought you’d like that.”

“Oh, I do.” Foggy agreed.  “And so do our creditors, but what’s an artist doing contracting a Hell’s Kitchen law firm?  Shouldn’t she be sitting in a weird chair of some lawyer in Soho?”

“She said she’s been painting Hell’s Kitchen since she was a kid.” Matt told him.  “And you can ask her when she gets here at 1, if you like.”

Foggy scoffed.

“Yeah, right.  Like I’m going to drive off a living, breathing client with money.”

He got up and made his way out, Karen following on his heels.  For the next several hours, they worked on their new case, and the cases of the clients that they all ready had.  Finally, at 1 o’clock exactly, Matt heard a now familiar voice.

“I’m here to see Matt Murdock?  He said to come at 1.”

Matt got to his feet as Karen asked her to wait for a moment.

“Matt,” she said, approaching his door.  “Your 1 o’clock is here.”

“Thanks, Karen.” He told her, sitting back down.  “Tell her to come in.”

He heard Karen do as he asked and heard Eleanor close the door.

“Mr. Murdock.” She said, a smile clear in her voice.  “A pleasure to meet you.  I’ve heard great things.”

“Ms. St. Claire.” He replied, playing along.  “You can’t have heard too many things then.”

“Nonsense.” He felt her sit down and followed her lead.  “You took down Wilson Fisk.  That’s impressive.”

“It was a team effort.” He replied shortly.

“I’m sure.” She agreed.

They were both silent for a moment.

“Can your colleagues hear us?” she asked, her voice low so only he could hear.

“No.” he replied.  “They’re busy with their own work.”

“Okay.” She answered.  “Well, I don’t have much for you, but since I accosted you in your apartment, I thought I would at least do you the courtesy of bringing the paying work I offered.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of papers.

“I have a couple of galleries that want to display my work.” She told him.  “Little places, nothing huge, but they both want me to sign contracts with them, so I thought I should have a lawyer look over them.” She handed them to him and he was surprised to find them in Braille.  “I told them my lawyer was blind and they were happy to accommodate me.”

“I haven’t actually agreed to represent you.” He pointed out, running his fingers over the bumps. 

“You will.” She replied happily.  “It’s one of the few things I’ve actually seen clearly.”

“About that.” He said, setting the pages aside.  “Why don’t you tell me more about how that works, especially since you seem to know all my secrets.”

“Not all of them.” She protested.  “Just most of them.  Seriously, I was very careful to not paint you where I would get too much.  I hate feeling like a stalker.”

“You said you’ve checked up on me over the years?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She sighed.  “After that first time, I felt drawn to paint you.  Like I was waiting for something to happen.  Maybe this.  Maybe I was being led to you.  I don’t know.  I don’t know much about how my visions work or why they happen.  I just know that painting you, knowing you were safe, gave me comfort…that’s weird, right?”

“A little.” He agreed.

She sighed again.

“I don’t want to be creepy.” She complained.  “It just always seems to happen.”

“Just…explain to me how it works.” He asked.  “When did it start?”

“When I was a kid.” She replied.  “I’ve been doing it as long as I can remember.  I’d draw stick figures of my parents and know if something was going to happen.  I kept my mom from being hit by a car one time because I drew a picture of her for the fridge.  The way it works is a little more complicated.  I draw something, or paint something, and when it’s finished, a vision hits.  The more detailed the work, the more detailed the vision.  I did a full on oil painting for our first meeting, trying to make sure everything would go just the way it should.”

“So, stick figure not as accurate as oil painting.” He summed up.

“Exactly.” She replied.  “I could do a rough sketch of this office and get an impression of the next couple of days.  Maybe see how your next case would turn out, but beyond that, it would be murky, many branched paths.  But if I sat down and did a full study, every detail as accurate as I could get it, I’d probably see the next couple of months, definitely any major cases and their outcomes.  That being said, my visions aren’t set in stone.  I can affect them, as can the people they involve.  Decisions matter, but some things are harder to change than others.  And some shouldn’t be.  Like today.  If I hadn’t come to your apartment, the next several months probably would have destroyed you and everyone you care about.  I couldn’t let that happen, so here I am.”

“What did you see?” he asked, not really believing he was asking.

“Death.” She replied.  “Someone close to you, I couldn’t see who.  This office closing.  You, alone and broken.  Karen alone, Foggy alone.  Breaks that shouldn’t be allowed to happen.  This is a turning point for you.  Turn one way and you’ll have the life, the family you’ve always wanted.  Turn the other and you wind up alone.”

“And you know which way I should turn?” he asked, skeptical.

“I know some of the turns.” She told him, ignoring the skepticism.  “I’ll do my best to steer you, if you’ll listen to me.  But I’m not saying you should always do what I say.  You have free will, you have to make decisions for me to see what’s going to happen.  If you’ll let me, I want to help you.  I want to keep you alive and as many other people alive as I can.”

She sighed and sat forward.

“I’m not like you.” She told him softly.  “I want to help people, but my gifts are limited.  I can’t go out and beat up the people who threaten our city, but I can help the one who can.  This city has suffered so much that I couldn’t stop.”

She hesitated for a moment before seeming to come to a decision.

“I saw the incident.” She told him, her voice thick.  “Two days before.  I painted Stark Tower, I guess Avenger Tower now.  I saw the aliens and all the death that was coming.  I started screaming and didn’t stop for almost an hour.  My parents almost took me to the hospital.  I tried to warn someone.  I tried to tell anyone that would listen at SHIELD, but it was too late.  The wheels were set in motion and I couldn’t stop it.  I could only watch as the world crashed around us.  And then with Hydra coming back…I tried to get them to listen, but I couldn’t be sure of who to trust in SHIELD, so once again, people died and I couldn’t stop it.”

She broke off, taking a deep breath.

“I can stop it here.” She told him passionately.  “I can save people, help you to save people.  Some of us, our gifts aren’t meant for the world stage.  We’re meant to protect the ones around us, the ones that we can save.  I want to help you do that.”

He could hear her sincerity in her voice, read it in her heartbeat.  Despite his skepticism that someone could see the future, he knew she wanted to help.

“Let’s take it slow.” He told her.  Her heart rate jumped in exhilaration and he shook his head.  “You tell me what you know, and I’ll see if any of it pans out.”

“Deal.” She agreed instantly.  “First thing first, then.  There’s going to be a new player soon.  He’s going to cause a lot of death.  You are not going to like his methods, but the reason why he’s doing it is important.  When you’re fighting him, make sure to check his ankle.  You can’t stop him from the first kills, but some of the later ones will be in your power to stop.  You need to not be just Daredevil, though.  You need to be Matt Murdock, attorney at law, if you want to stop the informant’s murder.  I’m warning you now, the kidnapping is not optional.  You need to talk to him, to understand.”

Matt stared in her direction as she finished.

“Too much?” she asked.  “I can write it down, if you want?  No, that wouldn’t really work.”

“I have no idea what anything you just said meant.” He told her bluntly.

“I know.” She replied with another sigh.  “Just, when a man named Grotto approaches you at Josie’s, take his case.  Start there.  And try to not get shot in the head.”

 “I’ll try.” He said dryly.

“Thank you.” She replied, ignoring his tone.  “And with that, you have other clients to see.”

She got to her feet and held out her hand.  She smirked when he returned the gesture, but refused to meet her.  She took his hand and shook it, laughing lightly.

“This may be the start to a beautiful friendship, Mr. Murdock.” She told him.

“We’ll see, Ms. St. Claire.” He replied.

She squeezed his hand one more time before exiting his office.  She said goodbye to Karen, and then she was gone.

“So…” Karen said, entering the office.  “Paying client?”

“It would seem so.” He replied.  “But do me a favor.  Can you dig up some information on Eleanor St. Claire?”

“Sure.” She agreed, jotting down the name.  “You think there might be a problem?”

“I’m not sure.” He replied.  “Just find out what you can.”

“Sure thing.” She agreed, moving back to her desk as Matt sat back down.

* * *

Karen sat back down at her desk, thinking about the woman Matt had just asked her to look into.  She seemed fairly normal to the receptionist’s eyes.  Average height, average build, brownish hair, brown eyes.  But Karen did have to admit that she had an odd way of looking at her.  It was almost as if she had known Karen, been excited to see her, like an old friend who had just lost touch.

Karen shook her head, she was imaging things.  She pulled up the PI software they had sprung for with the last of their funds and began to research one Eleanor St. Claire.

A few hours later, she hadn’t found anything remarkable, so she went to tell Matt this.

“She’s a native New Yorker.” She told him, sitting down across from him.  “Not like you and Foggy, though.  She grew up in Brooklyn, only child, two living parents.  She’s an artist, like she said.  Went to college for it and everything according to the bio I found on the internet.  She mostly does cityscapes, although the one or two portraits she’s done are supposedly something to see.  The word the reviewer used was ‘hyper realistic’.  I don’t really know what you expected me to find.”

“Basically that.” He replied, sighing as he sat back in his chair.  “I just wanted to confirm.  Thanks, Karen.”

“No problem.” She replied, smiling.  “You need anything else?  I was thinking of heading home.”

Matt smiled and shook his head.

“Thanks for everything, Karen.” He told her sincerely.

He felt her blush and smiled wider.

“Goodnight, Mr. Murdock.” She said, getting to her feet, grinning.

“Good night, Miss Page.” He replied, grinning as well.

He felt her shake her head before heading out the door.

A little after she left and Foggy came by to say he was leaving, Matt decided to pack it in.  He hadn’t planned on patrolling tonight, but he was feeling itchy and thought it might be a good idea.  He packed up and locked up, making his way home in the evening air.

As he approached his apartment, he heard a heartbeat and sighed.  He opened the door and made his way inside to find Eleanor sitting on his couch eating Chinese food.

“I got some for you.” She said as he stared at her.

“You need to stop breaking into my apartment.” He said, setting down his bag.

“I didn’t break in earlier!” she protested.  “You let me in.  And I brought you Chinese!”

“Please leave, Miss St. Claire.” He told her.

“I just wanted to know if you had any questions about the barebones background check you had Karen run.” She replied.  “Karen is a really good investigator, but you really should outsource that to a PI.  Jessica Jones is good, but I’m not sure if she’s taking clients.  You should take what I’m going to pay you and see if you can put her on retainer.”

“Why are you still in my house?” he asked, moving to his refrigerator. 

“Because you’re going to go out tonight.” She answered, turning to look at him.  “You shouldn’t.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because if you do, you’re going to get three broken ribs.” She replied matter of factly.  “If you’re serious about hiding this from Karen, this is the first step.  If you go out tonight, Foggy is going to tell her that you’re an alcoholic and that’s why you keep getting messed up.  It’s going to begin to drive a wedge between you and Foggy because he’s not happy about lying for you, and between you and Karen, because she knows you better than that.”

“Why do you care what happens to my relationships?” he demanded.

“Because a happy vigilante is an alive vigilante.” She replied.  “You need your friends, the ones who pull you back to the light.  You have darkness in you, we all do, but yours is just a little stronger than everyone else’s.  You need them to keep you in the twilight at least.  A lot of things in the coming year will go a lot smoother if you stay in the light.”

“If I don’t go out, people get hurt.” Matt argued.

“Not tonight they won’t.” Eleanor argued right back.  “Tonight, the only person who will be harmed is you, if you go out.  If tomorrow, you find out I was wrong, you can never listen to me again, but I promise I’ll never lie to you about this.  If you’re really needed, I will never stop you from going out.”

“If you’re wrong, someone might die.” Matt pointed out.

“You have to decide to trust me.” Eleanor told him earnestly.  “This is the first step.”

Matt wavered and she took her moment to push a little harder. 

“Let the lawyer have his night, let the devil have his rest.”

“You sound like a fortune cookie.” He told her with a grimace.

“Good.” She said, throwing one at his head and smirking when he caught it out of the air.  “That means you’re warming up to me.  Now come eat your Chinese.”

Matt sighed and reached over the back of the couch to take the container from her.

“Good boy.” Eleanor said, smiling.  “Now, eat.”

He did as she said.


	2. Changes are A'Comin

Eleanor had left at a respectable hour, insisting that she stay until she finished her food.  He supposed he could have thrown her out, but he had a feeling that if he had, she would have just found her way back in.  Despite her intrusion, he got up the next day and he went to work without any difficulty.

And when he checked, he found Hell’s Kitchen had survived one night without him. He breathed a sigh of relief and he even agreed to get breakfast with Foggy the next day.

Which is how he found himself walking down the street with his best friend in 100 degree heat.

“You ever wake up in the morning and from the second you get out of bed, it’s like ever molecule in your body hurts?” Foggy asked.

“No, never.” Matt said dryly with a smirk.

“I’m in agony, dude.” Foggy moaned.

“What, did you go back to the gym?” Matt asked.

“Hell no.” Foggy scoffed.  “Do I look capable of making healthy life choices?  I went out, Matthew.  Went out dancing.”

“I’m choosing not to believe that.” Matt told him.

“And yet, it’s true.” His best friend replied. 

“Mind if I ask you a personal question?”he asked.

“Go ahead.”

“Are you insane?”

“Yes.” Foggy replied.

“Tell me it was the barista.” Matt pleaded.

“Hey Foggy!  Looking good!” Someone on the street called.

“Her name is Bethany – and she is very limber.” Foggy told him.

“Oh!” he exclaimed.  “You’re my hero!”

Someone bumped into Foggy, calling him an asshole before they moved on.

“So, uh, when’s the next date?” Matt asked. 

“Well, therein lies the true pain.” Foggy replied.

“No!”

“Yes.  One and done.  End of the night, she hugged me like a cousin and said ‘I’ll call you’.”

“Oh that’s brutal.” Matt commiserated. 

“You know what my problem is?” he asked.

“Well, it ain’t the moves.” Matt said, smirking.

“You know I got the moves.” Foggy agreed.  “That’s the tragedy of you being blind, you’ve never seen me dance.”

“Yeah, but I can cite the legends I heard in law school.” Matt replied.  “So come on, what is it?  What’s the problem?”

“No wingman.” Foggy told him.  “You never come out with me anymore!  Could you imagine Nelson and Murdock on the dance floor?”

“I can’t deny that does sound epic.” Matt agreed, laughing.

“Then come out with me, Matt.” Foggy begged. 

“All right.” Matt said, still laughing.

“Come on, just one time, me and you.” Foggy said.

He suddenly stopped.

“What is it?” Matt asked, stopping as well.

“You’re bleeding.” Foggy sighed, pulling out a napkin.

Matt made a surprised noise.

“Where?”

“Base of the skull.” Foggy replied, pressing against it with the napkin.

“Did you get it?” Matt asked as he pulled away.

“No one’s gonna notice, if that’s what you mean.” Foggy said, sounding annoyed.

“Thank you.”

“I hate this.” His partner said as they resumed their walk.

“We don’t need to talk about it.” Matt said quickly.

“Good thinking.” Foggy replied sarcastically.  “You know, Karen’s been asking questions.  The cuts, the scrapes, the bruises.  I was considering telling her you’re an alcoholic.”

“What?” Matt said, stopping dead.

Foggy back tracked a little so he was standing in front of him.

“You told her I was an alcoholic?” Matt pushed.

“No.” Foggy replied.  “I considered it.  I’m still considering it.  I mean, what am I supposed to tell her?  She’s not exactly going to believe that you put on a devil suit and beat the shit out of strangers.”

“But you didn’t actually tell her that I’m an alcoholic?” Matt pushed again.

“No.” Foggy answered, confused.  “Matt, what is it?”

He shook his head.

“Nothing.” He said, resuming their walk. 

Or he tired to.

“It’s not nothing.  You need to talk to me.” Foggy insisted, stopping him.  “You know, this whole thing isn’t just your problem anymore.  And I’m past worrying about the broken bones, and finding you beaten into a coma.  What about us?  Nelson and Murdock.  You ever stop to think what happens if you get caught?  At best, you’ll be disbarred.”

“Then you’ll continue to do the good work we started together.” Matt told him.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Foggy demanded.  “You’re my partner.  I don’t wanna continue alone.”

“Foggy, last week a client came to our office.” Matt said, moving to hold his cane in both hands in front of him as he looked at his friend.  “Zuly Almeida.  Claimed her life was in danger.  We had no legal recourse to offer.”

Foggy nodded.  “I remember.”

“You recommended an excellent shelter for battered women.” Matt continued.

“And she went.” The other man pointed out.

“Yeah, she tried.”

Foggy started at that.

“That night,” Matt told him, “her husband found out she wanted to leave him, and he followed her to the bus stop with a gut full of beer and a butcher knife in his hand.”

“You never told me that.” Foggy said softly.

“Well, I’m telling you now.” Matt replied.  “Mr. Almeida walked out of his apartment with the intention to hack Mrs. Almeida into many bloody pieces, starting by taking off her head.  Guess what?  Never happened.  Instead, he woke up in a hospital with two broken arms and a restraining order safety-pinned to his chest.”

“Jesus, Matt.” Foggy breathed.

“If I take a night off, people might get hurt.” He told his friend.

Foggy took a deep breath.

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

Matt smiled slightly.

“You won’t.”

“Promise me.” Foggy ordered.

“You want me to cross my heart?” Matt asked.

“Do not make fun of me.” Foggy growled.

Matt shook his head.

“I swear.” He told him.  “Come on, let’s get to work.”

“Yeah,” Foggy agreed, “I gotta get out of this heat.”

They made their way to the office and nothing more was said about Matt’s late night adventures.

At the office, Karen waited with several clients.  She gave them a rundown of their clients for the first hour, a randy dog, an angry biker, and a young woman just looking to support herself, and then she gave them the bad news.

“So, um, I installed this free trial of accounting software on my computer.” She told them.  “And the good news is that I can re-up it every 30 days with a fake email address.  But, um, the bad news is that we’re broke. As in, literally no money.  And our income can’t cover our bills.”

Matt took a deep breath and smiled encouragingly.

“We’ll manage.” He told her.  “In my meeting with Miss St. Claire the other day, she mentioned putting us on retainer.  That will help.”

“Think she might have some friends to steer our way?” Foggy said hopefully.

“Maybe?” Matt replied.   “Hope springs eternal.  Anyway, I don’t know how, but we’ll manage.”

“And in the meantime, I guess we have lots of pastries and fruit.” Foggy said.

“Yeah, and fans.” Matt agreed with a laugh.

“Portable, electric fans.” Foggy added.

“Yes.” Matt said.

“And, uh, and each other.” Karen added, smiling slightly.

“Exactly.” Matt told her, before turning his attention to the clients.  “Miss Jacinto, can you give me one minute to make a phone call?  Then we’ll see if we can’t find you a better way to live in Hell’s Kitchen.”

The young woman nodded and the other members of Nelson and Murdock moved off to other jobs as Matt closed his door and told his phone to make a call.

“ _Yes, I’ll put you on retainer_.”

Eleanor didn’t even bother with a hello.

“You know, that’s gonna get old quickly.” Matt told her, sitting down.

“ _I told you I did an extremely detailed oil painting of our first meeting._ ” She replied.  “ _If it makes you feel better, we’re starting to enter the end of that vision.  After tonight, things get a little more murky.  I’m pretty sure you have to make a decision tonight, and until you do, nothing I paint is going to give me a clear path._ ”

“What’s the decision?” he asked.

“ _If I knew that, you wouldn’t need to make it._ ” She shot back.  “ _Back to normal, lawyer matters, I will put you on retainer, that’s not a problem.  I also might have a couple of friends who could use a lawyer to look over contracts for them.  Mostly boring gallery stuff about sales, but it’ll be steady clients._ ”

“I didn’t actually call about that.” Matt told her.  “But thanks.  We’ll take what we can get right now.”

“ _Why did you call?”_ she asked.

“You don’t know?” he shot back, taking his first opportunity to needle her.

“ _Matthew._ ” She said without any real rancor.  _“Answer the question_.”

Matt sighed and turned serious.

“Foggy said he was considering telling Karen I was an alcoholic to explain my injuries.” He told her.

“ _And?_ ” she asked.

Matt growled.

“How did you know?” he demanded. 

“ _Paintings.  Visions of the future.  Any of this ringing a bell?_ ” she asked sarcastically.

“He really would have told her that if I had shown up hurt yesterday?” Matt asked, ignoring her tone.

“ _Yeah._ ” She replied with a sigh.  “ _You’ve already begun moving your path just by avoiding that.  And on that note, you should tell Foggy what I can do._ ”

Matt choked on the bite of fruit he had just taken.

“What?” he almost shouted.

He sensed Karen look up from her desk and lowered his voice.

“Why in God’s name would I tell him that?” he demanded.

“ _Because he’s dying without someone who understands to talk with.”_ She told him matter of factly.  “ _And he feels like you’re not listening to him.  By confiding this in him, he’ll feel like you’re letting him in.  He’s your partner, Matt.  For better or for worse, his fate is tied to yours.  He deserves to know the score.”_

Matt rubbed his forehead.  He seemed to be having more headaches since Eleanor entered his life.

“ _He’s scared for you._ ” She continued.  “ _And you’re scared for him.  And you’re afraid that he won’t ever accept both sides of you, that he’ll try to make you choose Matt Murdock and give up Daredevil.  You need to trust him more than that.  And you need to stop separating the two in your mind.  Matt Murdock is Daredevil, and Daredevil is Matt Murdock.  Foggy deserves the chance to accept both, but he can’t do that if you won’t let him in._ ”

“Daredevil will put him in danger.” Matt said lowly.

“ _He’s in more danger if he doesn’t **know** he’s in danger._ ” Eleanor argued.  “ _By keeping him away from Daredevil, you put him in more danger.  He’s smart, Matt.  He’s not going to do anything to jeopardize your calling.  Let him in._ ”

They were both silent for a moment.

“You are incredibly annoying.” He told her finally.

_“Shockingly, not the first time I’ve heard that._ ” She shot back.  _“Look, I’ve got paintings to finish for my next showing and you’ve got clients.  You don’t have to make any decisions right this minute.  I suggest you go to Josie’s tonight.  Take Karen and Foggy with you._ ”

“Fine.” He sighed.  “But only because that was already the plan.”

“ _Whatever helps you sleep at night._ ” She told him.  “ _You can call me after.  I’ll be up._ ”

“I won’t.” he said shortly.

Eleanor laughed, which just annoyed him more.

“ _Talk to you later, Matt._ ”

He hung up without answering.

After a moment more of rubbing his forehead, he took a deep breath and got to his feet, heading to the door of his office.

“Miss Jacinto?”

* * *

 

Josie’s was full with regulars and Nelson and Murdock had claimed the pool table.  Foggy was playing Karen supposedly, but he had yet to actually go, as she kept sinking balls.

“See, I don’t know.” Matt said as she sunk another ball.  “That definitely sounded like cheating to me, Miss Page.  Foggy, you sure we’re not being hustled here?”

“As sure as Josie’s AC is busted.” Foggy confirmed.

“What AC?” Karen asked as the owner herself put two pitchers of water down for them.  “At least she brought water.”

She reached for the water.

“Oh!”

“No, you don’t wanna do that!”

She stared at the two men.

“You can’t drink the water here.” Matt told her, smiling.

“Josie’s pipes have issues.” Foggy elaborated.  “Rust, mold.  I think I can actually see the bacteria – floating in there.”

“Oh, ew, ew.” Karen said, backing away.

“See, that – that’s why we, uh, keep our cocktails neat.” Matt told her.

“Pretend you’re abroad, on vacation someplace exotic, but no mojitos.” Foggy added.  “Josie just throws mint in the beer.”

“Right.” Karen replied, laughing.

Foggy turned and handed his cue to Matt.

“Take over, buddy.  I gotta hit the head.  And don’t let her out of your four working senses!  She’s as quick as she is beautiful.  She reminds me of myself.”

“Right.” Matt agreed as Karen laughed.

Foggy saluted them and headed for the bathroom.

“This place brings out something special in Foggy.” Matt told her with a laugh.

“Are you sure it’s not the alcohol?” Karen questioned.

“No, it’s the company.” He told her seriously but with a smile.  “He likes it when it’s the three of us.  If it were up to him, we’d be doing this the rest of our lives.”

There was a sound of a ball hitting another one and Karen swore.

“What happened?” Matt asked.

“There goes my shut out.” She replied with a grin.

Matt let out a shocked laugh.

“Um, you’re going for a shutout against a blind man?” he asked her as she chuckled.  “How do you sleep at night, Miss Page?”

“You don’t get any sympathy from me, Murdock.” She shot back.  “I’m still not sure who’s hustling who here.”

She gently took him by the arm and led him to his next shot.

“All right.” She said, still chuckling.  “Here’s your cue.  Six is at your two, pocket straightaway.”

“Six and pocket two.” He repeated and she confirmed it.

“Fire away.”

He took his shot, purposely missing.

“How’d I do?” he asked, standing up.

“Well, you’ve got potential.”

She laughed again, making him smile.

“All right.” He said, his laugh joining hers.

“Here, go again.” She said.

She led him back to the head of the table and leaned close as he bent over.

“Six ball.” She said softly, leading his hand to the cue ball.  “Straight ahead.  Just real soft.”

They were both still as he heard her heartbeat increase and her fingers moved so they were almost interlinked with his. 

A second later, she coughed slightly and moved away.

“Come on, you’ve done this before.” Her voice was only slightly unsteady.  “Just go for it.”

He took his shot.

“No!”

Matt stood up and Foggy rejoined them.

“That good, huh?” he asked, laughing.

“Sunk the eight ball.” Karen confirmed.

“Well, something went in.” he replied, grinning.

There was an awkward silence as Foggy observed the two of them.

“You boys re-rack.” Karen said finally, grabbing her purse.  “I will, uh, buy rounds for the rematch.”

Foggy moved so he was standing next to Matt.

“I leave you two alone for one minute.”

“She wanted to teach me.” Matt replied, grinning as he defended himself.

He leaned down by the cue ball as Foggy stared at him.

“What?” he asked, lining up the shot and quickly sinking two balls.

“Show off.” Foggy accused as Matt laughed.

A rapid heart rate distracted Matt as Foggy set up the balls.  He zeroed in on a man at the bar and moved to stand next to Foggy.

“The guy at the bar,” He said softly “looking this way.  You know him?”

“No.” Foggy replied after glancing at him.  “Why?  What’s his deal?”

“Adrenaline’s high.” Matt told him.  “His heart rate’s out of control.”

“Well, he is sitting next to Karen.” Foggy said with a smirk.

“There’s something in his coat.” Matt continued, ignoring him.

“Coat?” Foggy repeated.  “Hot room.  I don’t need fancy senses to know he’s probably packing.”  Matt started to move towards the bar and he stopped him.  “What?  Matt, don’t make a thing.  Half the people in here are carrying guns.”

“Yeah, but none of them have their finger tapping the trigger.” Matt replied and Foggy reluctantly let him go.

Karen was leaving the bar with their drinks as Matt approached and he quickly slid into her spot at the bar.

“You, uh, new here, friend?” he asked the man.

“No, actually.”

“Look,” Matt said, lowering his voice, “I’m just, I’m just letting you know, this is a good place with good people.  A lot of places a guy like you could drink.  Just saying.”

“It’s not what you think.” He told him.  “I got business here.  With Nelson and Murdock.”

He took a moment to look over Matt.

“You must be the blind one.”

* * *

 

Matt, Karen, and Foggy had listened to the man, Grotto, tell his story and had just agreed to help him when he collapsed, bleeding from a wound on his side.  Karen agreed to go to the hospital with him, while Foggy and Matt went to the Irish killings Grotto had come to tell them about.

After talking to Brett, Matt split from Foggy, heading back to his apartment to suit up.

His apartment which was once again occupied.

“You know.” He growled, grabbing Eleanor by the arm tightly and hauling her off the couch.  “You lied to me!”

“No, I didn’t!” she insisted, wincing as his fingers dug into her arm.  “I told you I’d never stop you from going out when someone would get hurt.  I didn’t stop you tonight.”

“You told me to go to Josie’s.” he spat.

“Because you needed to meet Grotto.” She replied, trying to even out her voice.  “You didn’t ask me about going out tonight, so I didn’t tell you.”

“A lie of omission is still a lie.” He said with disgust, pushing her away and letting her fall back to the couch.

“It’s a lie I can live with.” She said, rubbing her arm.  “You couldn’t have stopped what happened tonight.  Not any of it.”

“You don’t know that.” He told her, going to his lockbox.

“Yes, I do!” she shouted, making him stop.

She took a deep breath and he could tell she was trying to not cry as she calmed herself.

“I knew what would happen tonight, more than you even know.” She told him, getting up to pace.  “I also know what would have happened if you tried to stop it.  So, I deemed their lives an acceptable loss.”

“You’ve decided to be judge, jury, and de facto executioner.” He sneered, rounding on her.  “What gives you the right?”

“I didn’t decide to be anything other than a painter!” she shot back.  “As for what gives me the right, whatever decided to give me visions of horror every time I try to paint beauty, I guess!  I make these decisions all the time, Matthew!  I do my best with the information I’m given.  You have no idea the choices I make!”

“I know you chose to let all those men die tonight.” He said lowly.

“Do you know what the other option was?” she shouted.  “Huh?  I do!  If I had sent you out to try to stop tonight from happening, I’d be having the argument with your corpse!  And with you dead, New York falls.  Within the year.”

She broke off and he stared at her.

“What?” he asked softly.

“That’s why I came.” She told him, sitting down heavily.  “I painted a picture of the New York skyline a week ago.  I do it every so often, just to see what’s in the near future.  I started doing it regularly after the Incident, but usually I don’t see much.  This time was different.  I saw New York crumbling into the ocean and your dead body.”

“How could I possibly be connected with the destruction of New York?” Matt demanded.

“I don’t know.” Eleanor admitted.  “But that was the choice I made today.  You and all of New York versus the lives of drug dealers, rapists, and murderers, so I didn’t even blink.  I’ve made choices before, Matt, that ended in death, and it’s torn me up, but you know what?  I didn’t lose a second of sleep over this one.  Maybe they didn’t deserve to die, and maybe I don’t have the right to make that call, but they did and I’m not going to waste time regretting it.  I’d do it again if it meant saving you.”

“Then we can’t work together.” Matt replied, turning away from her.

“Where do you believe your abilities come from?” she asked him, getting to her feet.

“The chemicals that spilled into my eyes.” He said sarcastically.

“Don’t give me that.” She told him.  “I know what a good Catholic boy you are.  You must believe that God was the reason you were given your abilities.  So you could help people.”  She took his silence as agreement.  “You and I have that in common.”

“You’re religious?” he asked, still not turning back to her.

“Episcopalian, not Catholic.” She told him.  “Born and raised.”

“Catholic light.” He joked before he could stop himself and she laughed.

“Exactly.”  She agreed.  “And proud of it.  My parents raised me in the church and taught me that my gift must have come from God so that I could help people.  That’s all I’m trying to do, Matt.  I’m trying my best with the information I’m given and sometimes, that means making decisions that go against every lesson I’ve ever been taught.”

“You didn’t have the right to make this decision for me.” He told her, finally turning back to her.

Eleanor sighed.

“Maybe you’re right.” She conceded.  “Fine, new deal.  I’ll tell you when things like this are going to happen and all the outcomes that I’ve seen and you can decide for yourself if the path I think is best is one you can live with.  Deal?”

Matt sighed, but nodded.

“Sometimes that may not be entirely possible, just so you know.” She warned him.  “Sometimes I don’t see things until the last minute, so I also need you to agree that if I tell you something and we don’t have a lot of time, you’ll listen to my counsel.  I may not be right in your eyes, but I’ve been interpreting my visions a lot longer than you.”

“Are you going to let people die?” he demanded.

“People die all the time, Matt.” She told him with a sigh.  “But I told you, I came to you because I wanted to preserve as much life as I could.  If I believe you can save someone without dying yourself, I will help you.  I swear.”

Matt nodded and sighed.

“I have to go out.”

“I know.” She told him.  “You’re going to find more tonight that’s not going to make you happy.  You can call and yell at me later, if you like.”

He chuckled slightly and she smiled.

“One last warning before you go.” She said, sobering quickly.  “Watch out for the one on his ankle.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.” She admitted.  “Just, try to keep it in mind.”

She walked back to her purse and gathered it up.

“Now, you need to get a move on, and I have somewhere I need to be.”

With that, she left before he could get another word in.

* * *

 

While Matt headed to Turk, who led him to the Cartels, Karen sat in the hospital, babysitting Grotto, who was resting.

They heard a scream as the door slid open and Karen stared at the new comer.

“Time to go.” Eleanor told her.

Karen kept staring as Eleanor moved to Grotto and started to detach him.

“Miss – Miss St. Claire?” she finally sputtered.

“Hi, Miss Page.” Eleanor said as she removed Grotto’s IV.  “There is a killer coming to get our friend here.  Could you please help him up?”

An alarm started going off and Karen sprung into action.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded as Eleanor helped Grotto sit up.

“Helping.” The other woman replied.  “Trying to keep people from dying.  Shortening my life span.  You pick.”

There was a shot.

“Damn it.” Eleanor muttered.

“Someone’s coming to finish the job.” Grotto moaned.

“You are not wrong.” Eleanor agreed, getting him out of the bed.   “Karen, you have a car, right?”

“Yeah.” Karen replied, surprised.  “How did you know?”

“Not the issue at the moment.” Eleanor replied.  “We should probably get there.  Like now.”

They helped Grotto to his feet and pulled him out the doorway.  Eleanor led them to a stairway and out to the car.

“Get him to the police.” Eleanor ordered.  “He’ll be safe there.”

“How - ?” Karen sputtered as she turned on the car.

“Not the time for questions.” Eleanor interrupted.  “Go.”

Karen did as ordered and drove off.

* * *

 

Matt arrived as Karen’s car got out of range of the shooter on the roof of the hospital.  He watched as the man swore, not even able to take one shot.

He quickly launched himself at the man and the ensuing fight was hard. 

It also involved more guns than Matt was comfortable with. 

After disarming the other man, Matt got hit with a punch that sent him to the ground while the unknown man fled.  Matt pulled himself to his feet, only pausing to spit out some blood, before following.  He crossed the roof above the man, finally catching up and throwing himself into him, knocking him to the ground.

The tussled for a moment, Matt almost gaining the upper hand when the other man reached for his ankle.  Eleanor’s warning ran through his mind, and Matt threw himself off the side of the building right as the other man took his shot.

Matt twisted as the roof below him rushed up towards him, but he misjudged the landing and felt his helmet crack as he hit his head on the side of a skylight.  He groaned and tried to sit up as the world became muffled, and, as he blacked out, he wondered if this was a better outcome than the one she had seen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know that I'm really going to dedicate to this, but this got written, so here it is.


End file.
